


The Dangers of Fruity Coconuts

by yesIam



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Challenge Response, Explicit Language, M/M, One Shot, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-30
Updated: 2008-06-30
Packaged: 2018-08-19 00:16:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8181361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yesIam/pseuds/yesIam
Summary: Hexfiles summer gift fic exchange for aunie.  Her words were; dance, wreath, lipstick, shore, and tranquil.  Harry goes to a tropical island for his first vacation abroad...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Hex Files](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Hex_Files), which was closed for financial and health reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Hex Files collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thehexfiles/profile).

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**This fiction is beta’d by smirking_muse.**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

**The Dangers of Fruity Coconuts**

 

 _Of all the beaches in the entire world, it had to be this one,_ Harry thought angrily as he glared at the crowd making their way noisily onto the beach. There must be nearly forty in the group, and right in the centre of it all was the leader of the mob. Stupid jerk! Why, oh why did HE have to show up everywhere Harry went? Harry looked skyward as if searching for an answer. This could not be happening.

Harry had been planning this trip for months. It was his very first vacation abroad, and he had spent long hours deciding where to go. He had picked this particular wizarding resort, because it was exclusive and private. A place where one could simply do nothing except relax. So, here he was, sitting on what should have been a **tranquil** beach on a small, peaceful island in the middle of the Bermuda triangle, when HE shows up with his bloody entourage, ruining Harry's plans.

He being Draco Malfoy.

The rat-bastard seemed to be everywhere. The famous playboy wizard, rich and good-looking, was a menace as far as Harry was concerned. Did the toe-headed prick really need to travel with forty people? 

Well, Harry wasn't going to let Malfoy ruin the first vacation of his life. NO! He was just going to ignore the loud, obnoxious band of jet-setters. Harry sank low in his lounger, pulled his hat down and closed his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, hoping to shut out the noise and not be recognised.

Of course, peace and quiet was impossible. Parkinson's caterwauling could shatter glass. He opened his eyes to tell the bint to shut up, but that was a phenomenal mistake. Harry felt his jaw drop open in shock. Malfoy and his entire troupe of hangers on had decided that clothing optional meant run around naked, whether one should or not! MERLIN! Crabbe really shouldn't be seen naked! Before Harry could recover from the abject terror of Crabbe’s hairy-backside, a large ball landed near his chair spraying sand all over him.

That was enough. Harry stood abruptly, glaring nastily at the person asking him to return the ball. He grabbed his lounger, towel and bag and stormed off further down the **shore.** He put as much distance between himself and the idiots frolicking in the buff as he could, settling at the far end of the beach. 

He hoped that Malfoy's dick got sunburned! Yeah, that would be very satisfying.

Far from the noise with nothing to disturb him except the gentle sound of the waves rolling up onto the sand, Harry closed his eyes once again and allowed himself to get lost in the blissful moment.

“Potter…”

Harry nearly fell off his lounger as the sound of his name interrupted his nap.

“…I thought that was you.” 

Harry scowled up at the blond idiot who had disturbed his privacy. “Malfoy,” he growled.

“What're you doing way down here? Why not come and join us?” Draco asked, gesturing to his companions.

“No, thank you,” Harry huffed, crossing his arms and slumping back in his chair. Draco, however, did not move. He just stood there, staring down at Harry with a smirk on his face.

Harry definitely didn't like the idea of Draco Malfoy standing over him. It was making Harry exceedingly uncomfortable. The fact that Malfoy's cock was now at eye-level had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with his discomfiture. Absolutely not! But did the stuck-up prat have to have such a nice looking prick? Bloody stupid perfect Draco Malfoy, with his perfect hair, his perfect physique, his perfect tan, with no tan lines mind you, and his bloody perfect good-looks, had to go and have a perfect prick! It wasn't right.

Draco grinned knowingly at Harry, and Harry was sure that the bastard had caught him checking out his package, which Harry wasn't! Absolutely NOT! It was just right there. Where was he supposed to look? Bastard! 

Draco squatted down beside Harry's chair, his perfect gray eyes looking over the top of his sunglasses. “Come on, Potter, loosen up, have some fun. What are the chances that we'd end up on the same island at the same time, eh? Come and join us.” Draco's words only succeeded in upsetting Harry further. What were the chances? That was exactly what Harry had been asking himself since he saw Malfoy walk on to the beach. It seemed where ever Harry went, Draco showed up. Harry glared at the other man.

“Yeah, what are the chances of that, Malfoy?” he spat. “Just like what were the chances of you showing up at the Ministry Dedication last Friday, or Madam Malkin's two weeks ago, or Dagmar's Carnival in Kent last month, or Seamus Finnigan's wedding in June?! Everywhere I go, Malfoy, there you are!” Harry stood up quickly, brushing off the blond's protests. “It’s bloody irritating!” he griped as he grabbed his things and started to stomp off in the direction of his private cabin. He turned and glared at Draco on last time, snarling, “You have **lipstick** on your cock, did you know that?” Harry spun back around and stormed off, ignoring Draco's laughter at his hasty retreat.

Stupid jerk!

Later, Harry sat in the courtyard of his private cabana. The sun had set a while ago, and the house-elves had already popped in and out with Harry's supper. He had not touched a mouthful. He was too embarrassed at his outburst towards Malfoy. He had felt justified at first when he had come back to his little cabin and pouted. However, he realised very quickly what an arse he had made of himself. Why didn’t he just ignore Malfoy? Why couldn't Malfoy just let him be? He couldn't believe he had told Draco he had lipstick on his prick! What an idiot. Why not just make a general pronouncement to the world that he had been studying Draco Malfoy's cock? Stupid, stupid, stupid! His entire vacation was ruined, and it was only the first day! 

Maybe he could ask at the front desk if there was a more secluded beach, and perhaps, if he tipped the manager, he could make sure Malfoy didn't find out about it. Then he wouldn't have to face the blond Adonis again! That might work. As long as he didn't have to see Draco Malfoy, he could convince himself that the entire episode never happened. 

It just wasn't fair! 

Harry squirmed uncomfortably as he thought about Malfoy. He had a long-time crush on Draco, along with the rest of the wizarding world. The man was simply gorgeous. Draco was a rich and carefree bachelor. Not a day went by without his aristocratic face in the _Daily Prophet's_ celebrity pages or in _Witch Weekly's_ gossip columns. Harry would have had to move to the Muggle world to escape noticing Draco Malfoy, and he couldn't possibly do that, though he had contemplated it many times.

Harry sighed and snuggled further down into the comfy hammock he was lounging in. He was so lost in feeling sorry for himself that he didn't hear someone approaching up the narrow path that led to the beach. At least not until, once again, his name was spoken, startling him.

“Harry.”

Harry cringed inwardly as he sighed outwardly. “Malfoy, can't you just leave me be?”

“Ah – no,” Draco answered, smirking sexily.

Jerk!

“Why not?” Harry pouted as he sat up clumsily on the edge of the hammock.

Draco wandered casually over to Harry and sat down beside him. “What would be the fun in that?” he asked. Harry groaned. Why now? Why him?

“Come down to the beach with me, Harry. We're having a party.”

Harry huffed in annoyance.

“What have you got to lose, Potter? Come on,” Draco cajoled, bumping Harry’s shoulder with his playfully. “We have food and wine and those little fruity drinks with umbrellas in them,” Draco enticed. “There's music and a bonfire…”

Harry slunk lower. “I don't know,” he whined. Deep down, he really wanted to go anywhere Draco wanted.

Draco grinned as though he could tell he was wearing Harry down. Bloody irritating prat! But Harry hadn't eaten supper, and he was hungry, and it was a lovely night. As if reading Harry's thoughts, Draco continued in his attempt to convince Harry to join the party.

“Come on, Harry, it’s a beautiful night, and the beach looks gorgeous right now. It’ll be fun, and I promise to try my hardest to keep Crabbe and Goyle clothed. Though I must warn you, they are both blatant exhibitionists when drunk.” 

Harry snickered as he thought for a moment. He was on vacation after all. Why couldn't he have a little fun? It might not be so bad. Harry sat up and looked at the man sitting beside him, seriously considering it. Why couldn’t he just go down there for a bit and have some food and a drink or two? He had been itching to try one of those fruity concoctions anyway. It wouldn't be so bad, would it?

“Okay, Malfoy.” 

Draco jumped up excitedly and grabbed Harry's hand, pulling Harry out of the hammock. “Call me Draco. This will be fantastic, Harry, you'll see,” he said, smiling his perfect smile as he dragged Harry off.

As soon as they reached the beach, Pansy Parkinson’s irritating screech pierced Harry's ears, and for one second, he regretted having agreed to follow Draco.

“DRAKEY, **dance** with me,” she squawked. Draco pushed her aside as though she didn't exist. “DRAKEY?!”

“Fuck off, Parkinson, and go bother someone else,” Draco said dismissively as he led Harry towards a large log near the bonfire. “Sit down here, Harry,” the blond demanded. “I'll just pop off to get us a drink and order some food.” Harry stared open-mouthed at Draco's retreating back. What was he playing at? Harry shook his head to clear his confusion. Who would have thought Draco Malfoy could be so – well, so nice?

Harry glanced around sceptically. Parkinson was now fawning over some other man Harry vaguely recognised as a former Slytherin. Crabbe and Goyle were dancing – with each other?! People Harry didn’t know, or recognise, were also dancing or were sitting around the fire, which blazed warmly and took the chill out of the night air. A trio of island musicians played local instruments off to the side, far enough away from where Harry was so as not to be irritating. It was all quite pleasant actually, if you shut out Parkinson and didn’t look at Crabbe and Goyle.

Draco returned after a few moments, handing Harry a drink. It was in a hollowed coconut and smelled very sweet. “Someone will be by shortly with some food. I hope you're hungry?” Draco said, sitting down beside him. Harry nodded and took a sip of his drink. It was quite tasty, all fruity and coconutty. He had never tasted anything so exotic before. He took another large sip. Glancing over at Draco, he noticed the blond was staring at him.

“What?” he asked nervously.

“You might want to drink that more slowly, Potter.”

Harry snorted, but before he could respond, a woman approached, wearing a grass skirt and carrying two plates of food. Harry felt his mouth water. Perhaps skipping both lunch and dinner had been a bad idea. He took another large sip of his drink and set it down. Thanking the server, he dug in with relish. 

Much later in the evening, Harry was still sitting beside Draco on the log. The meal had been delicious. Local seafood, fruits and vegetables grilled on an open pit, right there on the beach. He was now enjoying his third fruity beverage, and he and Draco were chatting amiably. All in all, Harry was having a fantastic time. He was pleasantly relaxed, feeling quite happy, really. Parkinson had pestered them a few more times; Draco had just ignored her or told her off. Harry noted that she was now sitting on the other side of the bonfire, glaring daggers at him. That was a bit odd. Of course, if he thought about it, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy sitting beside one another at a party and enjoying each other's company was a bit odd. But he was feeling too happy to bother with thinking. As a matter of fact, he was feeling so good and enjoying himself so much that he felt free enough to ask Draco all sorts of crazy questions and was even telling the Slytherin anything Draco wanted to know.

“Draco, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“How did you get lipstick on your cock?” Harry snickered stupidly as he asked, feeling quite silly and happy and – just silly, really.

Draco looked at Harry carefully. Harry could not quite recognise the emotions he was seeing in the other man's face, but it made him a little nervous. Draco licked his lips before, looking across at Pansy Parkinson with a scowl of disgust.

“That bint,” he gestured with his chin toward the floozy blonde girl, “is always trying to get in my pants.” He growled lowly. “She caught me unawares as I was sunning myself, the tart. Scared the hell out of me and ruined the most delightful dream.”

Harry's jaw dropped. “You mean she – she…” he couldn't say it. It was disgusting. Draco merely nodded.

“It's my fault; I shouldn't have dozed off,” he said.

Harry shook his head. “What were you dreaming about?” he asked, hoping to change the subject. Thinking about Pansy's horrid mouth on Draco's perfectly delicious looking cock was revolting.

Draco smirked and leaned closer to whisper, “You.”

“ME?!” Harry gasped.

“Yeah, you,” Draco replied as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “Did you ever wonder why I'm so often at the same places you are, Harry?” he asked, still speaking softly. Harry gulped. “It's because I want to be near you, want to get to know you and for you to know me. I really like you, Harry.” Draco stood then and held out his hand, “Dance with me.” Harry stared up at the man he had been crushing on for years, completely shocked. Taking a very large sip of his drink, Harry stood unsteadily and took the offered hand.

The next morning…

Harry woke to an absolutely pounding headache. He was in a bed, that much he could tell, though he couldn't quite remember how he got there. As a matter of fact, everything about the evening before was a bit of a blur. He could remember parts, mostly up to the point where he had danced with Draco Malfoy. 

There must have been booze in those fruity drinks.

Harry stretched, still not opening his eyes. There was something sticking into the back of his head uncomfortably and an irritating bit of something flopping in his face. He huffed and swatted at the offending substance. The stupid thing just kept falling back down! Wearily, Harry pried his eyes open, it was some sort of flowery **wreath** , the sort one would wear on one’s head. How he had come to be wearing said flowery bonnet was beyond his memory at this moment. He closed his eyes and tugged at it, having to lift his heavy head to pull the thing off. Harry groaned loudly at the motion. He was never drinking fruity coconuts again.

The bed dipped suddenly and a hand brushed across his forehead. Harry opened his eyes to stare blearily at the person sitting on the edge of the bed.

Draco Malfoy.

“I told you to watch those drinks,” Draco said quietly. “Drink this.” Harry saw Draco had a glass vial containing a blue-coloured potion in his hand. “Hangover Draught,” the blond said casually. Harry sat up, groaning again, he took the vial and drank it in one go. He flopped miserably back down with a heavy sigh. Draco chuckled as he lay down beside Harry. The potion worked quickly, and Harry's head began to clear. Naturally, the first thing Harry realised was that, while covered with a sheet, he was quite naked. Shite! The next thing that occurred to him was that Draco was also naked. Bugger!!

“Um, Draco?”

“Yes, love.”

LOVE?! 

“How'd I – er – we get to bed last night?”

“Well, you had too many of those umbrella drinks, so I, being the chivalrous gentleman that I am, tucked you into bed, darling.”

DARLING?! Something was off here. Harry was sure of it.

Harry squinted up into those fathomless gray orbs. He sort of remembered bits of that, however, it still didn't explain why Draco Malfoy was lounging naked in his bed. Harry swallowed nervously. “Er – we didn't – you know?” he stammered, feeling his face heat up.

Draco smirked at Harry. “No,” he said, as he leaned in and kissed Harry's lips softly. “But we will.”

"Oh." Harry managed to say before Draco’s mouth covered his own in a hot, needy, mind-blowing kiss.

Draco's lips nibbled at Harry's worrying them gently. Harry gasped and Draco took advantage. Sliding his tongue into Harry's mouth, he massaged every inch before withdrawing. Harry whimpered with need. His entire body tingled. His toes curled, and his back arched off of the bed. Never before had he experienced such a perfect kiss. Draco lapped at Harry's lips and then nipped and nibbled his way along Harry's jaw, biting just beneath his ear. Harry trembled as Draco’s hot breath sent sparks of lust shooting down his spine.

Draco pulled away, licking his lips. He rolled on top of Harry, staring at him lecherously. “After all, Harry, it is tradition to consummate our marriage.”


End file.
